


not just where you lay your head

by lwtisart



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: ?????, Established Relationship, Home, I should add to this but im lazy, M/M, Songwriting, i found it in my drafts and thought it was cute idk, its not long enough to have tags rip, this is like ten words bye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 21:02:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5555246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lwtisart/pseuds/lwtisart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis realizes it doesn't matter where they go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	not just where you lay your head

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so embarrassed for posting this because it's unfinished and literally the shortest thing on this website but I hope it makes your larry heart flutter a bit.
> 
> Title is from "Home" by Gabrielle Aplin.

Louis has never felt more alone than he has for the last few months.

The thing is he isn’t alone, not at all, he surrounded by his best mates. He should be happy. He should be ecstatic he doesn’t have to work. But not working means not seeing him and not seeing him, being with him, means being alone. It is a chain effect really. And Louis can’t stand it.

He goes on. Barely. He writes songs and eats food he shouldn’t be eating. He talks to friends and his lovely mum. Nothing compares. (Nothing compares to feeling his skin in contrast to his. How it feels to be kissed by his luscious lips anywhere and everywhere. The way he fits in his arms and how their legs tangle together. The feeling of his hair on his neck when he wakes up. The feeling of knowing he’ll be there when he wakes. Knowing he’ll always  _ be _ there. Nothing is anywhere close.)

 

There is Skype, texting, and those trivial such things, but they will never amount to seeing his face two inches from his, lips bitten and coral, eyes full of an emotion Louis still can’t quite figure out even after five years of wandering through the rainy forest green. 

 

In this time of loneliness Louis writes a song. He writes a lot of songs and somehow they’re all about him. But haven’t they always? Since that day in the bathroom the day of his audition for The X Factor when he ran into that curly-headed one who didn’t realize all he was worth and his world changed. Quite literally.

 

He thinks of the 16-year-old and 18-year-olds’ conversation whilst lying in the bunk bed of their shared room.

 

_ “If we make it-” _

 

_ “Love,” _

 

_ “When we make it, we’ll be having the time of our lives, but won’t we miss home and our families?” _

 

_ “We have got phones and we could get a videocam.” _

 

_ “S’not the same.” _

 

_ “I’ll make this feel like home, if that’s what you need.” _

 

_ He turns to Louis and gives him the widest smile that shows his dimples predominantly indenting his cheeks. _

 

_ “I could even try to make your mum’s food if you want. My cooking isn’t too promising though.” _

 

_ Chuckles erupt and Louis thinks he’s in love even though he’s known this boy too short and he has a girlfriend. But it’s never felt like this with her. He wonders if he feels the same. _

 

Louis writes a song because the boy felt the same.

 

_ And it's alright _

_ Calling out for somebody to hold tonight _

_ When you're lost, you'll find a way _

_ I'll be your light _

_ You'll never feel like you're alone _

_ I'll make this feel like home _

_ I'll make this feel like home _

 

He suddenly realizes why he isn’t ever felt tremendously homesick on the road. When the interviewers that care more about their love lives than they do ask, he is never one to raise his hand. He never calls Doncaster home anymore. England is England, because they say ‘Home is where the heart is.’ His heart larger than his chest could ever fit. His heart flows with deeper words than that of the ocean. His heart with enough love to fill up battlefields.  _ Home is where the heart is.  _ His heart not with England. His heart not in his bed. His heart not a place. _ Home is where the heart is.  _ His heart that is in the hands of one and one only. His heart he trusts in another. His heart on the road with him. 

  
  


So when Louis whispers “Home,” while embracing his lover post the prolonged months of being apart, he has never felt more complete. 

  
  
**Home isn’t a place. Home is a feeling. Home is a person. Home is Harry.**


End file.
